Doing What Two People Need
by thattookaturnforthenerdy
Summary: This is my first stab at a 'song fic'. I listened to Blunderbuss by Jack White on repeat for an hour and this came out. Just short Daryl and Beth fluff.


_Feet_ _pounding_. _Blood rushing to her ears. A sweaty hand desperately clinging to his. Life. Death. Blue eyes._ It was all Beth could think about as she tried to keep up. They had left. Run away. It was exhilarating. Terrifying. She didn't understand herself right now, but she was content. Happy with the rough hand leading her, pulling her, through the thick trees.

They had struck out from the prison days before, when Jimmy had discovered them together in his cell. No one had understood, had thought Daryl had been taking advantage of her. The word 'love' was absent from everyone's mind that day. Rick seemed the only one to hear her pleas as she begged the congregation to understand. Her sister had tried to pull her away into a comforting embrace, protective. The disgust and pain in Maggie's eyes had finally broken the thread in Beth.

"Stop it!" She shoved her sister away, and moved to stand next to Daryl. He looked down at her with sad, puppy blue eyes.

"It's my fault." He said in a low whisper, just for her ears.

Beth shook her head. "I love you." Beth intertwined their fingers, her cold fingers warmed slowly by his, as she leveled her gaze firmly. "I love him. No one took advantage of me, I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions." She stared pointedly at Maggie. "I know what I'm doing; we know what we're doing." She finished.

Maggie stood a little straighter, looking ready to spit fire. It was Glenn's hand on her shoulder that stopped her. A whisper in her ear that had Maggie shaking her head, and her shoulders deflating. "I don't like it." She said flatly. "Not one bit."

Rick rubbed his jaw, thinking. His eyes were hard. "I don't know how well this is going to go over with everyone here. It might…" He sighed, dropping his hand uselessly. "It might make people uncomfortable." He looked imploringly at Daryl, expecting him to be the grownup.

Daryl just shook his head. "I don't care what people think Rick." Daryl brought Beth's hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her porcelain knuckles. "I'm hers, as long as she wants me." The answering widening of Beth's eyes burned the word _FOREVER_ into his heart.

Michonne stepped forward, crossing her arms. "How old are you Beth?" She asked seriously.

Beth blushed. She had expected this question, and had prepared an answer for it. But with everyone in her family staring at her like a little girl, it suddenly seemed inadequate.

"I'm seventeen. Technically…if we've been keeping track right." She drawled. "But this isn't the old world! I've seen things, and I've done things! I'm mature." She finished quietly.

Rick sighed deeply again, turning to look over his shoulder, at his son and daughter in the cafeteria. "You're still a child. And Daryl should've known better. We need to keep some form of order here, so that people know things aren't gonna descend into anarchy."

Daryl grunted. "You're not gonna stop us Rick."

The two men stared at each other across the room, sizing each other up, trying to gauge just how serious the other was. Rick blinked, surprised at the conviction in his friend. He was willing to fight for this. To die for this. It was so obvious in the way he gently stepped in front of her, pushing her behind him. In the tight set of his shoulders, in the posed strength of Daryl's arms. He was tense. He expected Rick to make a physical move against them.

Rick put his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "I don't mean no harm Daryl. But people aren't gonna be right with this. And I have to keep order. I'm sorry, but the line needs drawn somewhere."

"Beth you'll be eighteen in three months. Maybe we can look at it then?" Glenn interjected, still holding onto his wife.

"Wait? You want me to stop seeing Daryl just because of some sense of old world righteousness? Who we used to be is dead, and hell if I'm letting any of you stop me."

Beth gritted her teeth against the words she heard, against the negativity rolling off of Maggie in waves, and the gentle concern she heard in Glenn. She was tired of people treating her like she could break at any moment, sick of the way she was tiptoed around like she was good for nothing. Except watching Judith of course. Beth shook her head, and stood up straight. "You can't take him from me. I won't let you." She took Daryl's hand and led him back to her cell, where she closed the curtain.

She was worried that someone would've come in, but they seemed content to drop the issue for now. She pulled him over to sit next to her on the bed, her hands lazily in his on her knees.

"We have to leave." Beth urged.

Daryl looked at her, searching her eyes for something. "You crazy girl? We've got safety here – weapons, food, shelter. Not to mention family."

She just shook her head, her blond braids spilling over one shoulder. "The same family that doesn't understand that love is love; are you trying to tell me that you could really leave me for months, waiting for my birthday? That you could leave me on terms that weren't our own?"

Daryl cocked his head. She was too smart for her own good, and knew him too well for his comfort. "Damn woman. You're right; I can't." He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her pink lips: soft, sweet, loving. He tasted a little greasy, and she wondered if he'd eaten something he'd caught from that morning.

"You pack one bag, only what you need, and get some rest." Daryl told her. "I'll wake you tonight and we'll leave."

"It's not forever Daryl, I promise. Just for a little while."

Daryl just stared at her, open, just for her. His eyes said what he couldn't. _You really think they'll let us come back after we pull this shit?_ Beth smiled, her eyes starting to water, and pulled him into her, one arm around his back and the other running her fingers through his hair. He stiffened a moment, still unused to being comforted, before he relaxed and held her against him in return.

"I love you Daryl Dixon." She whispered into his hair.

The only reply she received was a grunt, and a gentle hand running fingers down her spine, but it made her laugh and it was enough.

•

They had been on their own for nearly four months, by their count. Maybe it was a little more, a little less, they weren't great at keeping track. They hadn't gone far, but far enough. By Daryl's reckoning they were maybe 100 miles away from the prison; close enough to find if anyone could track them. Daryl, however, was the best tracker around and had made sure to keep their tracks hidden. He wanted Beth to feel secure with him, but also like she was near enough to home that she could leave whenever she wanted. She hadn't though; she had stayed by his side through thick and thin with him.

He was proud of the change the last few months had brought in her. Her body was stronger, from hunting and surviving. She could light fires with nothing but dry wood and grass, could tell deer tracks from other wildlife, and could cook it differently so it never bored them. Every time she moved next to him on a hunt he was amazed at the silent way she tread; she had picked up on his teachings better than he could have hoped. Beth Greene was a warrior; and she was his.

They had found a little cabin deep in the woods, more of a hunting shack. It was only one room but it had a wood oven, a small fireplace, and a bed, and really, that was all they needed. Daryl had slowly been bringing things back that he thought would make her happy: bedding he had found still packaged at a grocery store, books, a few pans, toiletries.

After one particularly harrowing evening taking down walkers that had gotten too close to their home, they huddled together in front of their hearth. She had scrubbed all the blood out of her hair, and his too. He had almost been bit in a mad dash to keep a walker off of her. She had chided him of course, complete with hands on hips.

He placed his arms around her, drawing her into the comfort and safety of his body.

"I'm sorry again." He whispered against her blond hair.

Beth smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You need to be more careful. What if I lost you?"

"What if I lost you?" He repeated.

Beth shuddered at the thought. She loved him. And she didn't dare think about what life would be like after him. Because, even if they both made it, and they were allowed to live their life together, he'd die of old age before her. It was something she thought about at night, after he'd gone to bed curled against her. About how lucky she was, and how time was precious. She wanted to remember the exact color blue of his eyes, and the way his hair was starting to reach his shoulders. She inhaled deeply the familiar scent of leather and wood and blood. The stench of blood was always there, no matter how hard he scrubbed at his skin. But she wouldn't change a thing. Because it made him Daryl.

Beth burrowed deeper into his embrace, content. "I've been thinking about the prison."

Daryl cast a wary glance down at the top of her head.

"I miss Judith, and Carl, and Carol. I miss Maggie and Glenn." She huffed. "But I don't know if they miss us. Don't know if…"

Daryl leaned down and pressed his lips to her warm cheek. "We can start back in the morning." He promised.

Beth turned in his arms, a small smile on her face. He just knew. Always. She kissed him softly, deeply, passionately. She kissed him with all the love she had, an explosion of adoration in a simple embrace. They fell together in front of the fire and spent one last night alone, in warmth and joy and pure unabashed love, before packing up their little home and setting off for their family.

Daryl brushed his fingers against Beth's, shyly asking for permission. Beth gently took his hand, and started to lead them towards the prison, towards a second beginning.


End file.
